Stolen Moments
by chquine-harvinellisse
Summary: When Sindria is safe again, I'll insult you for sure, Yamraiha.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Magi.**

 **Enjoy reading!**

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She had absolutely no business out there and yet here he was, carrying her into the inner courtyard where the other surviving sorcerers were.

"Move it!" Sharrkan shouted he ran through the hall, dripping blood as he went. He shouldn't have let his guard down. He should have finished that nuisance from the Organization quickly. If he had, Yamraiha wouldn't have to erect a barrier with such little magoi and be...

 _Dammit!_

First, Sinbad had mysteriously disappeared and when news of that reached the outside world a lot of people wanted to invade Sindria. But the Eight Generals would not have that. Their greatest enemy was the Organization who had set their sights on Sindria a long time ago; now they had their chance.

A frontal attack had been their greeting: magicians firing their spells on every corner of the kingdom. It was a good thing that the barrier had been repaired otherwise there'd have been more casualties than they wanted. They had just enough time for Pisti and Hinahoho to evacuate the people into the palace where another barrier had been erected. The empty streets were then scouted by the Organization's swordsmen and magic tool users.

The soldiers were determined enough to protect Sindria while Ja'far went to look for him. Even though the rest were reluctant to have one of the Eight Generals leave, it was also imperative to have Sinbad return to his kingdom as quickly as possible. The other seven could very well defend Sindria in Ja'far's and Sinbad's absences.

Their setup was simple. The sorcerers stayed behind and made sure they kept the barrier up while tending to the wounds of the ones who needed help. The swordsmen and other foot soldiers held the enemies at the front doors. Sharrkan was in charge of the western gate of the palace and they were doing well until these magic tool users started to rain down fireballs on them.

He'd almost failed in protecting the western gate if Yamraiha didn't intervene. But she was short on magoi that after she defended them; she'd been injured by an enemy swordsman. Masrur had taken charge of the defense of the western gate so the blue-haired sorceress could receive help.

Spartos was the first one to see them and he too looked worse for wear. His armor was dented in many areas and he had a bandaged arm that seemed to still be bleeding. In his arms was a little girl whose face was so pale and her eyes were dark. He seemed to be waiting for the sorceress in front of him to finish healing the wounded soldier.

"What happened?" Spartos asked calmly, but the panic was palpable in his tone. Yamraiha had never been injured this heavily before.

"I need a damn healer here!" Sharrkan shouted to no one in particular, ignoring Spartos' question.

"Stop shouting," Yamraiha scolded weakly. Her face was flushed and her eyes were darkening. "I can take care of myself," she said.

"Like hell," he retorted. "You don't have enough magoi to heal your own wounds."

"Just bring me to my room," she insisted and squirmed in his grasp uncomfortably. "I think I have something there..."

Sharrkan hesitated for a bit but when he saw the number of people who needed to be treated, he gritted his teeth and walked off, leaving Spartos and the little girl in his arms to the attention of the sorceress in front of him. He threaded through the throng of people in the inner halls: the women and children who had no means of protecting themselves. Some spared them a glance but either way, the white-haired General could care less.

The walls of the palace are crumbling and cracking from the exertion from the outside. If the barrier should fail...

 _No. There's no way the barrier will fail. We'll protect the people of Sindria._

"Stop frowning will you?" Yamraiha scolded, but it sounded more of a whine given how weak her voice was.

"Shut up!" Sharrkan exclaimed as he looked around frantically and tried to look for the path that led to Yamraiha's workshop. He knew it by heart; he could find the way there even with his eyes closed. Just in case something happened, he could go find her first and save her, even though he knew she was more than capable of protecting herself. But there and then, he seemed to have forgotten where her workshop could be found.

Something exploded in the far distance and Sharrkan could see the impatient look in the sorceress' face. Racking his brain for the route that could be so useful at the moment, the white-haired general headed to the left by pure gut instinct. His robes were getting wet and sticky as Yamraiha's blood continued to seep out of the wound on her belly.

Thankfully, it was the right place to turn to. A few moments later, he felt the tell tale twisting in his gut. It was ridiculous, but whenever he passed by the door or got near it, his heart beat faster; it smelled like her, it sounded like her and it _felt_ so much like her - like the sea and the wind and sand between his toes. He'd long admitted that he respected and admired Yamraiha more than he cared to admit he did. The wooden door easily gave way when he kicked it open. He could've sworn he heard the sorceress in his arms curse when he did, but he didn't care.

She weakly pointed to a table at the end of the room and he gently padded towards it and put her on the floor, just as she commanded. Sharrkan supported her with an arm on her back and a hand gently on her hip. Yamraiha mumbled a few spells and winced as her wound started to close. After a few ragged breaths, she said in a firm voice, "Take me to the battle." Her voice trailed off and she fell to her knees, eyes glazed with exhaustion.

"No way in hell," Sharrkan cut in and placed her on an empty table. "You're going to rest here."

She offered him a frown and argued, "The Kingdom needs me. There are plenty of other wounded out there and they're still fighting."

He scoffed as she tried to hop off the table where he'd put her. Yamraiha leaned against her staff and hobbled towards him only to fall short and have the white-haired General catch her in his arms. Giving her a scolding look, he set her down the table again despite her weak willed protests. "The Kingdom doesn't need an incapacitated General. You still have a lot of things to do once we survive this attack."

She stared at him for a while and broke into a smile. "What, no insults for me?"

Sharrkan offered her a grin and said, "When Sindria is safe again, I'll insult you for sure, Yamraiha."

The sorceress merely rolled her eyes at him and said, "Make sure you fight my share too."

He grinned and gave her a slight wave as he left the room.

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 **I'll end here... XD**

 **I'm sorry if it was short and kinda fluffy and not romantic at all, I just thought that I'd write something that I really like, which is d.i.d (damsel in distress) situation and this fic was born... XD**

 **Please do not hesitate to click the REVEIW button and feel free to convey your deepest darkest thoughts regarding the fic as it is greatly appreciated... =D**

 **See you in between pages again!**

 **chquine_harvinellisse**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I've kinda decided to expand a bit on this... I don't know how long it will be, but I think it'll stay in its 'complete' state... XD**

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Her skin is clammy and pale – he notes as he watches her sprawled underneath him and panting heavily. Sharrkan slept with a great deal of women, but none of them were nearly as satisfying as Yamraiha. It could be placebo or it could be because they're doing it on someone else's bed; heck it could be her large breasts, but nothing can ever compare to finally taking the magician after wanting nothing more than to talk her out of those flimsy seashells of hers.

Who knew that it would take a marriage and a residence in Balbadd, Kou Empire's colony?

"Well, that's that…" he says as he falls on his back, panting but not as hard as the magician beside him.

Yamraiha is blushing as she stills her breathing. Clearing her throat, she stands up from the bed and puts on her robe. "Hurry up and get dressed. I don't want anyone to see you here."

"No one's going to see," he reminds her. They're in a high tower isolated from the rest of the city. She asked that tower as a marriage gift from one of Kouen's older nephews, reasoning that she would like to remain undisturbed when she's studying. Her husband, Lord Hakukin, is at the capital and Yamraiha spends her time going through her tomes and making sure that she didn't become rusty. At night, when Hakukin is supposed to be making sure his line continues through her, Sharrkan ascends the steps, rips off her robes and takes her every other way she wants to be taken.

No guards are stationed outside her room or the entrance of the tower. Once or twice, Yamraiha 'accidentally' zapped them with lightning magic when she was experimenting. Kouen deemed her to be fully capable of protecting herself and had all the guards stationed at her tower removed.

"What will Ja'far think of us?" Yamraiha sighs as she falls to a plush chair in front of her desk. "While he's out there looking for King Sinbad, the two of us are here – indulging in our own pleasures."

"One thing's for sure," Sharrkan says as he follows her example. "He's taking too long to find Sinbad."

Since their King's untimely disappearance, Sindria has been thrown into a state of chaos. The others from the Seven Seas Alliance have tried to help, but with their head missing there's only so much they can do before the entire country fell into the events of civil war after surviving numerous attacks. The surviving people lived in the palace; in the care of the remaining Generals, who were also worse for wear. But as soon as the fleets from the Kou Empire came to their shores, the people wanted nothing more than to be put under Ren Kouen's care. They couldn't be blamed, given how they suffered from the attacks on Sindria.

The people were taken into Balbadd and allowed equal opportunities to prove themselves. In exchange, the Generals became underlings of the Empire. The others were given equal rights as the nobles and were kept under Kouen's watchful eyes. Hinahoho's son was sent to Hakuei as a soldier, but given the gentle demeanor of the First Princess, the Imchak warrior is at least at ease. Hinahoho himself is at Balbadd, waiting for orders from the First Prince to go out somewhere, either for subjugation or diplomacy.

Drakon's wife was sent to the capital – a glorified hostage under Koumei's care. He's training the new recruits at Balbadd along with Spartos. Masrur was sent to Leam as one of the Fanalis corps; a gift of goodwill from Kouen. Sharrkan is more or less the same as Hinahoho – a freelance diplomat and most crucial to their own countries. Pisti is a hostage of sorts, under Kougyoku's care. Given the amiable nature of the Eighth Princess, Pisti is still in a favorable place to nurse her wounds from the previous battle.

Lastly, Yamraiha is kept at Balbadd, a valuable magic scholar that can be of help to the new colony. She's also given to Hakukin – a thirteen year-old boy and the eldest of Kouen's nephews – as a sign of good will between the former Sindrians and the royals of Kou.

She has no qualms about her husband. He's kind, but simple at best. His mother however, pleaded for her son to reach eighteen before living completely with his wife. Kouen complied, only after having them married first. She can't see why the First Prince would even arrange such events, but since they've happened, she can't complain any more.

The magician frowns when she sees the white-haired general standing by the window. "Will you get out of there? Someone might see you!"

"I can always tell them that I saw something suspicious," he shrugs nonchalantly. "You're their beloved Prince's nephew's wife. They'll want you safe."

"Not by someone who has the same loyalties," she snaps.

"Why the hell are you so angry?" He demands. "This entire situation isn't my idea!"

Yamraiha bites her lip. It's true; Sharrkan wasn't the one who initiated this nightly tryst. She stumbled upon him sometime ago after he came back from Heliohapt for the preliminaries of an agreement between them and Kou. The Generals in Balbadd shared a few drinks and they – being rivals for the longest time – engaged in a drinking contest. In a drunken stupor, she insulted him to no end and called him names. He retorted with equal fury and somewhere between insults about how she was a shamelessly dressed woman and he a womanizing idiot, the magician flung herself to him and kissed him fervently.

"Don't put any meaning into this," she told him sternly. "I… I…"

He didn't let her finish and instead wrapped her legs around his waist and took her right beside the door. When they finished, satisfied and utterly spent, Sharrkan asked her what made her do that.

"I'm a married woman," she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "It's only natural that I want to be man-handled."

"You're a weird woman," he remarked, dark skin dusted with a bit of pink. "I'm not the one who should be man-handling you."

"You mean I have to wait five more years for my husband to touch me?" She scoffed and a bitter look came upon her face. "I'm not as patient as you think I am."

As he stared at the ceiling, he wondered if they were going to continue with such an arrangement. "Prince Kouen won't like this."

"No one has to know," she assured him then. "I won't tell. And I know you won't tell." The magician straddled his lap, her breasts directly on his face. "You've always wanted to do this, Sharrkan… I can tell…"

"H-Hey! A-a-a-are y-you serious? Th-the-the windows are-!"

He was cut short by the fact that she fell on him – warmth encompassing his prize and making him shudder shamelessly.

"Sharrar magud…" she barely breathes out and lifts up her hips only to slam them back down.

She is pulled back to the present when his lips tails wet kisses up and down the side of her throat. "Sh-Sharrkan-!"

"Stop thinking," he tells her, eyes brimming with stern reprimand. "You may be dressed differently and you may be living in a different place, but you're still Yamraiha of Magnostadt, the exceptional magician and General of King Sinbad."

It is said that Sharrkan can charm any woman off her clothes and it's only now that she understands why. She stands up from her chair, moves away from the window, not bothering to fully drape her robe on her body. He takes advantage of the askew robe and lets his hands roam on her bare skin; palms resting on her hips while his fingers gently pressed on the small of her back.

He pulled her towards him, lips meeting hers tentatively. Slowly, she's being pushed against the wall. There's something about Sharrkan and dominance that she finds to be inseparable. Perhaps it's only because they're rivals through and through and the fact that he's dominating her is making him feel as though he's won over her.

In a matter of seconds, she's undressed again, but she barely has time to think about it as his tongue dances with hers. Aside from his innate ability to talk any woman off her clothes, he also has a talent for making you focus on one thing as he secretly does another. Such as now, she can't seem to care about the hand traveling down her torso or the arm snaking around her waist; his lips are warm and soft and the way his teeth bite firmly on her lower lip makes her arch her back and grab the sides of his head to retaliate.

Perhaps retaliation is her downfall, in more ways than this. As she sucks on his lower lip, she suddenly registers the jolt coming from in between her legs. By this time, his focus is no longer on her lips and before she can formulate _anything_ to retaliate, her knees are already threatening to buck as his fingers curl deep inside her and she whimpers softly.

For Sharrkan, hearing the slightest noise from Yamraiha is a reward in itself. The magician rarely allows herself to say anything or emit whatever kind of noise during their nightly trysts. The other girls he's been with – willing prostitutes from Sindria and some from the other countries he's visited – were loud and verbal, but they were paid to satisfy him. Yamraiha is on a completely different league from them. She's never been with a man since that night that she offered herself to him. And for someone who's scantily clothed, she's rather shy about her voluptuous breasts and her pale skin. What's more, the sounds of surrender which she makes just fuel him to touch her harder.

He pumps his fingers into her, fast and relentless. She bites on the side of her hand to stifle her moans while the other hand wanders around the wall to keep her steady because even though he's holding her so close to him, she's almost absolutely certain that her knees will give way.

Sharrkan ducks his head, kisses her collarbone and this time, a loud moan is drawn out of her throat. His bright eyes twinkle with excitement. He wants to hear more. He wants her to scream his name as she clenches around him and he reaches his own release. But first, he pumps his fingers into her and his lips trail wet kisses down to her chest.

Aladdin experienced first-hand what happened when someone touched Yamraiha's breasts. But Sharrkan found a way to make sure he enjoys her chest without being turned into steam. Distracting her is easy and with his palm rubbing all over that tiny nub in between her sweet slick folds and his fingers curling inside her sopping heat, he can fully enjoy the assets that she denies to people so easily.

Yamraiha, he's found, is very sensitive when it comes to her breasts and when he overwhelms her to the point that she can't retaliate, a few bites, some well-placed nips make her spill into his hand. She slumps forward gracelessly and he catches her – hoists her onto his shoulder and carries her to the bed.

He towers over her; his robes are still tied together in contrast to her who is naked as the day she was born. Of course, there are some improvements to her since she was born. Sharrkan doesn't concern himself much with the details. He likes staring at her until she squirms.

"Stop staring at me," she whispers weakly; ashamed to the bone that she no longer has the voice to snap at him.

Fortunately for her, Sharrkan does not disappoint. "If you say so…"

He thrusts into her and she nearly screams. This is the sight he's been dreaming of for a long time. This is the sight he's imagined while he repeatedly gave himself to other women. This is what Sharrkan the former prince of Heliohapt, wants – Yamraiha trapped under him while he revels in her reactions and the tiny sounds she makes.

As the morning sounds erupt from below and he falls down the mattress beside her, the swordsman can't help but think that being underlings of the Kou Empire isn't so bad after all. If they hadn't been taken in, he wouldn't be able to feel her soft skin against his, or have her moans drowned in his kisses.

He just wishes that she isn't married to some prince – presented like some gift-wrapped toy to a toddler. She's more than that. Even though she's not a Dungeon Conqueror like two of the nine Kou Empire princesses, she's just as capable as they are.

"Come to think of it," she cuddles to his chest. If there's one thing he's found out about her, it's that she's not that fond of bare skin contact. She likes to keep her distance from him. "You used to be a prince right?"

"What about it?" He asks, trying to keep the redness from spreading through his cheeks. Their robes are scattered about – red and white instead of the dirty white and green that they used to wear in Sindria.

"Maybe if I married you, I'd be happier," she remarks. "Heliohapt doesn't sound so bad."

He turns to her in disbelief. Before he could say anything, her sleeping face makes him stop. Sharrkan raises his hand to stroke her hair but stops. Should he really be affectionate? From the very beginning, she's made it clear that she means nothing when it comes to this. He indulged her and she unwittingly indulged him. But even a man ridden by passion knows that there's a distinct line between what they are and what he wants them to be.

Since Yamraiha's asleep in his arms, he decides to gently stroke her hair. He'd make her happy. Even as a former prince of Heliohapt, he'd make her happy. He'd stay with her every day and suffer through her monologues about magic. He'd make love to her every night and watch as their children grew. He'd take care of her when she's old and be by her side when she's sick. He'd make sure that she never endangers herself anymore. He'd drink with her and spend lazy mornings with her. He'd cook for her and maybe she'd cook for him. He'd love her and treasure her.

But all he can do is be content with lying down beside her, on a bed that should be occupied by another man.

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 **I won't say much so... Please feel free to convey your deepest darkest thoughts regarding the fic as it is greatly appreciated... =D**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **See you in between pages again~! =D**

 **chquine_harvinellisse**


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